


You're Delusional

by XxDecipheringGravityFallsxX



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Fluff, Filbrick Pines Is A Jerk, Platonic Relationships, Stangst, Trans Male Character, Trans Stan Pines, Warning Slight Transphobia from Filbrick Elmer Pines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 17:44:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16412993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxDecipheringGravityFallsxX/pseuds/XxDecipheringGravityFallsxX
Summary: Stan Pines begins to doubt himself, but thankfully he can always count on Stanford.





	You're Delusional

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot I made for Lazy-Stars on tumblr based off of their Trans Stan Pines headcanon. Please if this isn't your cup of tea move on, transphobes won't be tolerated here.

             Stanley Pines gripped the side of the Stan O’ War, his knuckles turning a stark white hue in contrast to the rest of his skin pigmentation.

 

        His gaze was met with the surface of the slate gray-blue water of the artic ocean. His eyes followed every wave that was caused by the ship displacing the water, as his twin Stanford- steered them towards warmer waters.

 

          They had been planning to dock soon, so that they may restock on supplies. Sixer had been keeping count, and he noticed they were running rather low, however that’s not the reason Stan was currently gripping the side of their ship, his grasp like an iron vice. 

 

          The reason wasn’t as simple as worrying about if they had enough to eat, or if they had enough medical supplies and so on and so forth. The real reason that was causing him such distress was far deeper than that, like the ocean below them, Stan’s thoughts were sunken deep within his vault of memories.

 

        His mind was currently prodding and picking at a locked memory, that was just beyond his grasp. He could feel the urgency of this memory trying desperately to swim its way to the surface of his mind.

 

       Yet like the old saying went ‘so close, and yet still so far.’ the memory eluded him as if it were the big catch of the day a fisherman had been waiting hours for. The memory swam around within the depth of his subconscious, just out of reach of the metaphorical hook he was using to bait it.

 

          Finally the memory took the bait and Stan began a grueling fifteen minute struggle to reel it to the surface, as he continued staring down into the gray waves in the meantime. The effort of his labor was rewarded when his reflection in the water blurred with the tumbling of the gentle waves.

 

          He realized the source of his distress, it was now crystal clear. It was the epiphany that his reflection looked wrong to him, that was to blame for the turmoil that swirled inside of him. The memory fish shattered through the surface of his mind, and he was then thrust into the sea of remembrance.

 

         His hands released their tense hold on the side of the ship, and promptly found themselves pressed harshly against his temples. His whole body was overcome with tremors, as if he were being tossed around by the waves of the ocean as a storm brewed around him.

 

       His breathing hitched- causing a white puff of vapor to form in front of him, only for it to vanish within the brief moment that it took for his own sense of self to be lost to the shores of another time.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

**_Score many decades ago, a young Stan Pines not even ten years old, cowered in a corner before his father. Filbrick Elmer Pines was not impressed, not at all but then again, when had he ever been impressed when it came to Stanley? Or rather in this case Stanleah, that was Stan’s given birth name, and he loathed it with every fiber of his being._ **

 

**_“Enough of this Stanleah! Enough of dressin’ yourself up like a young man! Now you take off your brother’s clothes this instant, and go wear that dress your Ma made for yah!” Filbrick demanded, his facial expression contorted into a scowl as he loomed over his unruly ‘daughter.’_ **

 

**_“N-No! I do-don’t wa-want….I don’t want---” Stan shook HIS- yes his head, he was a boy, he knew he was a boy it was the only thing that ever felt right to him. He had to be a boy…and his name was Stanley NOT Stanleah._ **

 

**_“I-I’m a bo-boy….I…I’m….a bo-boy, Pa!” He sniffled and trembled as he hugged himself tightly, staring up at his father with pleading eyes. He knew he was a boy, even if he only was ten years old, he’d always hated being called a girl or a young lady._ **

 

**_The dresses he had been forced to wear had always left him feeling suffocated and trapped. But when he wore his twin’s clothes such as t-shirts and jeans, he felt a freedom he craved._ **

 

**_It was as though a weight had been lifted from him. “I’m a boy! I’m a boy!” He whimpered out as his father continued to stare down at him in disapproval. “I’m Stanley! I’m Stanley, Pa!”_ **

 

**_“No! No yah ain’t!” Filbrick snapped harshly as he reached down and grasped Stan by ‘her’ shoulders roughly. “Yah ain’t a boy! You’re a little girl, enough of this hogwash!” His voice was low and icy, underneath the tone of his voice a warning lurked. The patient waters of his harbor began to churn, being tested by his stubborn ‘daughter’ who constantly insisted ‘she’ was a boy._ **

 

**_Stan’s petite figure began to tremble uncontrollably as he averted his gaze to the floor, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He let out low hiccups and soft sobs, he tried to pull himself out of his father’s grasp but was unable to do so. “Bu-But…I…I am…I am….I’m a boy…” He insisted between his hitched breathing._ **

 

**_Filbrick’s fingers dug deep into ‘Stanleah’s’ shoulders nearly drawing blood in the process. “I SAID THAT’S ENOUGH!” He bellowed his voice booming with overwhelming authority, this only caused his ‘daughter’ to break down into more sobs. Filbrick grumbled choice words underneath his breath before he continued to correct his ‘daughter’ about ‘her’ gender._ **

 

**_“Yah ain’t a boy, damn it! How many more years are you going to say you are! Yah ain’t a boy! Yah don’t got the right parts! You’ll never have the right parts! You’re a young lady- and it’s time you start actin’ and bein’ one! If yah don’t have boy parts then yah ain’t a boy, that’s how it works young lady!”_ **

 

**_Stan couldn’t bring himself to speak up against his father. He didn’t understand why his Pa couldn’t accept the fact he was a boy. He shook his head furiously as he pressed his hands against his ears, blocking out the sound of his father’s gruff voice. The distressing feelings of suffocation and of being trapped slowly crept upon him._ **

****

**_He just wanted to hide away from the entire world around him, the world who couldn’t understand that he was a boy. All he wanted was to be himself and being himself meant that he was a boy, but how could he be himself when the entire world said he was a girl? It wasn’t fair! Why couldn’t he be who he was?_ **

 

**_Why did he have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t? He wasn’t young lady, he’d never wanted to be a girl. He wanted to be a boy like his brother, but everyone kept telling him he wasn’t a boy and that he didn’t have the right parts. He didn’t understand what they meant, what did they mean by right parts? What was he missing? What part did he lack that other boys had?_ **

 

**_A low and huffy sigh rumbled within his father’s throat, and he released his hysterical ‘daughter’ he rose back to his feet and loomed over ‘her’ his mouth pulled into a taught frown._ **

 

**_His father turned away and called out for his wife, “Caryn, please come in here! Our daughter is having one of her breakdowns again, and I’m too damn tired to put up with her! I’m this close to smacking her in the mouth if she keeps up with this ‘I’m a boy’ nonsense! I need yah to talk sense into her! This has been going on since she was five and I’ve had it!”_ **

 

**_Stan promptly stumbled back and pressed himself into the corner, before he slumped down into a sit. He clutched his legs towards him and buried his face against his knees. “I’m a boy….I’m a boy.” He whimpered over and over, like a broken record._ **

 

**_He didn’t want to be a girl, he hated himself when he was a girl. He wanted to be a boy, why couldn’t the world just let him? What was so wrong about being himself? He was a boy, it didn’t matter what anyone else said._ **

 

**_He knew he was a boy…he knew it…deep down he knew. So why couldn’t anyone else see that? Why did they only see him as a girl? He wasn’t a girl! He wasn’t girl! He didn’t want to be a girl, he couldn’t be a girl, because that wasn’t him._ **

 

**_His name was Stanley Pines and he was a boy, and he was going to be a boy and be who he was and he was going to make everyone else see that he was a boy. No matter how long it took, he’d show the entire world he was a boy._ **

 

**_It didn’t take long for his father to leave the room and for his mother to enter and sit down by his side. Stanley immediately threw himself at his mother and clutched ahold of her, his hysterical sobs echoed through the house._ **

 

**_“Ma!” He choked out as he buried his face into the fabric of her red dress. His lungs and chest ached with every sob that escaped him, his entire body hurt  but it was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil that rushed through him without mercy. Every fiber of his being was screaming that his body was wrong… or rather he was in the wrong body._ **

 

**_He could feel his mother wrap her arms around him and gently rub at the center of his back with her hand. ”Shhhh….shhh it’s alright sweetie, there there.” She hushed in a soothing whisper, “Tell me what’s wrong, baby.”_ **

 

**_Stan sniffled and took in a shaky breath, “Ma…I…I wanna be a boy…” He strained his voice to be able to convey his words to his mother. It had been a struggle for him to get his vocals to comply, and his voice more or less came out in a frail manner._ **

 

**_“I don’t want wear girl stuff….or have girl toys...or..or be called a girl.” He admitted his sorrows to his mother without restraint. “I want…I want..to be called Stanley…not Stanleah! Please, Ma! I don’t wanna be a girl!”_ **

 

**_“Oh, my poor precious little baby,” Caryn patted his back gently, “is that how you’ve really been feeling all this time? I mean I just figured it was something you’d grow out of but…” His mother trailed off with a soft sigh and a loving smile graced her lips._ **

****

_**“Alright my sweet little Stanley, go find your brother and ask him for some of his clothes for you to wear. I’m going to be busy storing away your dresses and your toys, and tomorrow I’m taking you to get some more clothes and new toys. You can pick out anything you want, okay?”** _

 

**_Although, Caryn obviously didn’t understand why her child wished to be called a boy, she was willing to go along with what Stan wanted. Despite her confusion, her motherly instincts had kicked in. She never wanted to see her children in pain. If it truthfully was causing her child pain to be called Stanleah and to be called a girl, then Caryn would have none of that in her household._ **

 

**_If the only way to sooth the pain was to call her baby Stanley, and to address him as a boy, then she’d gladly do so. “Go on ,Stanley.” She didn’t know if this was just a phase or what it was. But as long as her little boy was happy, she decided that’s all that mattered to her._ **

 

**_Stan’s tears had all but ceased by then as he pulled his face away from his mother’s side. He blinked away the last of his tears, and stared up at his mother as she spoke to him._ **

 

**_And when his mother finally called him Stanley, he grinned so hard that his cheeks began to hurt. He nodded and pulled away from his mother, he felt a sense of freedom he hadn’t felt in a long time as he rushed off to find Stanford._ **

 

**_However he didn’t have to because Stanford found him, for as he rounded the corner towards his and Ford’s room, he and Ford crashed into each other. Stan and Ford both landed on their backs, they both laid there in silence only for a few moments before laughter erupted from the both of them._ **

 

**_Ford pushed himself up and held out his hand for Stan to take, he helped pulled Stan to his feet. “Geez, are you trying to run me over bro?” Ford teased as he playfully punched Stan in the shoulder._ **

 

**_Stan blinked and stared at Ford in bewilderment, he tilted his head as he stared at his brother trying to figure out if he had heard Ford right. Did his twin just call him…bro?_ **

 

**_“Uh…no?” Was all Stan could say, wondering why his brother was calling him his bro. He’d never called him by that before, and now he could only guess that Ford had heard everything that happened. “Ford…did you just call me bro?”_ **

 

**_Ford nodded in a matter of fact manner, “Sure, what else would I call you? Or maybe you don’t like that? Should I call you Knucklehead instead?” He smirked with a soft chuckle, patting his brother on his back._ **

 

**_Stan’s eyes began to glisten as more tears escaped them, he sniffled and quickly wiped away the tears and echoed his brother’s chuckle. “Only if I get tah call yah a Nerd!” He stuck out his tongue at Ford before he rushed off toward their bedroom. “I’m stealin’ your red striped shirt!”_ **

 

**_“What!? Hey no-! That’s my favorite shirt, Stanley!” Ford protested as he chased after Stan, “NOT THAT ONE! STANLEY, NO!”_ **

 

**_“STANLEY YES!”_ **

 

**_From that day on his Ma and Ford would call him by his name, and call him by a boy. His father however was another story entirely. For years he adamantly refused to call Stan by his true name and refused to call him a young man._ **

 

**_But finally after both Stan’s parents realized that Stan was dead set on being a boy no matter what anyone else said, Filbrick begrudgingly on Stan and Ford’s sixteenth birthday called Stan his son._ **

 

**_Though, it wasn’t without an underlying tone of bitterness and dismay, however it marked the first time Stan had gotten his bullheaded father to concede at anything. So it wasn’t any shock that he rightfully felt accomplished, despite the fact there would always be a lingering bittersweetness that loomed over the victory._ **

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

    “-Ley!”

 

        The memories began to ebb and fade away like an old photographs, as Stan’s sense of reality creased back to the present. At current moment he found himself on his knees, his breathing erratic and uneven, his hands still clutched to his temples.

 

       The voice that had reached him through the memories sounded as though it were reaching him through water, as if he had taken a plunge into the ocean and he was currently drowning. He sure as hell felt like he was, a familiar suffocating and trapped feeling began to overtake him as his entire body trembled violently.

 

        “STANLEY!” Suddenly he was aware of the hands gently placed upon his shoulders, and he was now staring into the concerned eyes of his twin. Stanley blinked away the last remnants of his memory and reached up to place his hands atop Ford’s hands.

 

         “Stan…?” Ford inquired carefully, wondering if Stan was having another lapse in memory, or if he had just recalled one and what that memory might be. It was rather difficult to deduce if his brother had either forgotten something or remembered something.

 

        Seeing as in both cases Stan’s actions were the same. Whenever he lapsed in memory or when he remembered something; he’d always press his hands to his temples and slump to his knees, and his breathing would become erratic.

 

        “Sorry...” Stan muttered in a dry tone of voice as he averted his gaze away from his twin in embarrassment, he hated that Stanford had to see him this way. So helpless and vulnerable, he didn’t want Ford thinking he was weak and couldn’t handle himself.

 

       He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and he didn’t wish to be treated as a child that was unable to fend for himself. "Just gimme a sec, Ford.” He attempted to take in deep breaths, but found he couldn’t quite get enough air no matter how much he inhaled.

 

       Ford resigned himself to a respectful silence as he waited for his brother to compose himself. However, he did move one of his hands to Stan’s back and began to soothingly rub his back in reassurance. It was something that always helped Stan to calm down.

 

        Ford could remember it clearly that whenever Stan was riled up or emotionally distraught that rubbing his back always calmed him down. Thus far this comforting method had never failed to do its job, yet.

 

       The soothing sensation of Ford rubbing his back chased away the tightness in his throat and his chest. And Stan couldn’t help but lean forward against his twin.

 

       He allowed himself to relax as he rested his forehead on Ford’s shoulder. After a few minutes ticked by Stan finally found enough energy to pull away from Ford and look him in the eyes. “Just remembered somethin’ s’all.”

 

         Ford frowned deeply as he studied Stan’s expression, whatever memory he had recollected didn’t appear to be anything that could be considered one of mirth.

 

        He deducted by the downcast and distant look upon Stan’s face that the memory must have been rather distressing. It didn’t take long for Ford to notice Stan’s expression shifting into something that caused him alarm every time it settled upon Stan’s face.

 

      Doubt...

 

          He knew that look all too well by now, and it pained Ford to see it upon Stan’s face. “Stanley what’s wrong?” He ventured timidly, knowing if he pressed too hard on the issue that Stan would clam up and would refuse to acknowledge him in any manner. 

 

        Stanley bit his bottom lip, and once again averted his gaze away from his twin. His eyebrows furrowed as he glared down at his hands that rested against his legs.

 

       He curled them into fists, his knuckles once again becoming white because of how harshly he was curling his hands, his fingernails dug painfully into his calloused palms. 

 

       The very moment Ford had ceased rubbing his back to inquire him on what was causing him distress, the tightness returned and with the tightness a lump formed in Stan’s throat.

 

      The memory still fresh in his mind began to loom over him, as if mimicking the intimidating shadow his father once used to cast over him.

 

         Disbelief flooded through him, it was baffling that despite the fact his father had long since been dead and buried- that he still held such power over him. That his father was still causing him to doubt his convictions and his self worth. 

 

       A bitter and pained laughter forced its way out of him and he spoke with resignation, “I’m not a man am I…Ford?”

 

         “What…?" Ford replied, taken aback by Stan’s words. “Stanley…what are you talking about? Of course you’re a man.” His tone was firm but also gentle, he wondered just what memory Stan had been stricken with to cause him to doubt himself in such a manner.

 

         “No…no I’m not.” Stan mumbled, his tone dull and void of emotion, it was so hollow sounding that it caused a shiver to be sent down Ford’s spine. “I’m not a man, and I’m not your brother...dad was right I ain’t got the right parts, Ford.

 

      “Stanley,” Ford began, his voice low and consoling knowing exactly how to handle the situation before him, “please listen to me- you are a man, probably the bravest man I’ve ever known. You are my brother and---"

 

         Stanley pulled away from Stanford and shook his head, a scowl upon his face and he spoke in a vindictive manner. “No, Stanford…I ain’t….I ain’t any o' that. So, I saved the damn world one time, so what? That doesn’t make up for a lifetime of screw ups! I broke your project and destroyed your dream to go to West Coast." His breath hitched in his throat and he shuddered.

 

         "Also, we all know that if I hadn’t of pushed yah into the portal and then brought yah back- then that rift wouldn’t have been created! The rift was my fault and that means that Weirdmageddon was also my fault.” He refused to meet Ford’s gaze as he wrapped his arms around himself. “I’ve been denying it all my life, but c’mon Ford it’s time to face the facts. I’m a screw up and-“

 

            “Ley... please look at me.” Ford cupped a hand under Stan’s chin, and gently directed his gaze towards him. “Pa was wrong, you’re not a screw up. Yes you pushed me into the portal and yes, reactivating the portal ended up creating the rift. But I’m the one who built the portal so the responsibility falls on my shoulders and mine alone. I’m the one that made a deal with Bill, and in turn caused the bridge between our dimension and the Nightmare Realm to form." He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in.

 

          "Weirdmageddon is my fault and mine alone, and you’re the man and hero who saved the world. Also what happened to my project was an accident, you’re not a screw up. You’re the bravest man I know, my brother and a hero, and I love you.” Ford pulled Stan into a protective embrace, as though he were attempting to protect him from anything that would do him harm. He held his brother close, hoping beyond hope that his reassurance would quiet the doubt within Stan’s mind.

 

         Stan tensed up as Ford pulled him into a protective embrace. For a few minutes all he felt was a tingling numbness that spread all throughout his body. The numbness seeped deeply into the very core of his being like an icy chill, he shivered in Ford’s hold and then the floodgates opened. He wrapped his arms around Ford and took in a shaky breath, “But…but what…about… I don’t…I don’t have a…I don’t have a…”

 

         “Ley, it doesn’t matter about your parts…” Ford pulled away slightly, and rested his hand against Stan’s chest over his heart. “All that matters is what’s in your heart…it didn’t matter what anyone's said before, you were always adamant about being a man.”

 

          Stan choked back a sob, and then inhaled deeply before he exhaled, allowing the numbness to recede. It was replaced with the warmth of his brother’s hug. He buried his face against Ford’s shoulder, after a few minutes of shedding tears, the doubt and the tightness ceased to be. 

 

          “However...” Ford muttered pausing, as if he were contemplating deeply upon an idea. He rose up from the floor of the deck, and then offered his hand to Stan. He helped his twin to his feet before he continued speaking, “if you want…I mean…well…” He stammered over his words as he rubbed the back of his head; as he wrecked his brains trying to figure out how to phrase his next words. 

 

            “Ley, I know that we both agreed to use any treasure we found to expand the size of the Stan O’ War but…I had a thought and I believe it imperative to tell you. What if by chance we set aside some of the treasure to save it for a sex reassignment surgery—"

 

         Ford wasn’t able to finish for he found the air being ripped from his lungs as he was enveloped in a bone crushing hug. A strained chuckle escaped him, “Stan, you’re crushing my rib cage…” He informed his twin breathlessly as he wrapped his arms around Stan giving him a pat upon his back.

 

        Stanley couldn’t help but echo his brother’s chuckle, and he tightened the hug for only a moment before he pulled away. His eyes glistening with joy Ford hadn’t seen in so long, a few stray tears began to trickle down Stan’s cheeks.

 

       “Are you crying?” Ford smirked as he gave his brother’s shoulder a light punch, staring at his brother with a smug expression upon his face.

 

          Stan burst out into a fit of deep bellied laughter as he quickly swiped away his tears. “Me? Cryin’? Ridiculous! I can’t believe you’d accuse me for such a sap, Sixer. I’ve never been more offended in all my life!”

 

       He crossed his arms and let out a long drawn out huff, that was no doubt just mock irritation. “The ocean sprayed me with water s’all, you’re delusional.” He returned the light punch, a beaming grin upon his face.

 

         Ford rolled his brown eyes in amusement. “Of course Stan, obviously I’ve just now lost my mind.” He wrapped his arm around his twin.

 

          "Funny, I thought you lost it thirty one years ago.” Stan mirrored his twin's earlier smug expression, as he wrapped his arm around him. He then set his sights towards the horizon. The moon was just peeking above the waves, and the stars were beginning to shimmer above their heads.

 

       Stanley Pines was a man. And nothing that this world put him through could ever convince him otherwise. But if he ever had his doubts well…

 

 

        He knew that he could always count on Stanford.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story then maybe drop a comment letting me know what you thought of it! It's okay if you don't, but it would be appreciated!
> 
> Again, if this isn't your cup of tea then move on. Transphobes aren't welcome here!


End file.
